


ain't nothin' better, we beat the odds together

by coxcomb



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Love Letters, M/M, Romance, Thievery, ohc (original horse character) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 11:16:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11668014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coxcomb/pseuds/coxcomb
Summary: If Graves had the excuse of being light-headed and delirious, he wouldn't feel so... what was it? Embarrassed? Guilty? ...about the way he'd gone from leaning his forehead into the solid space between TF's shoulder blades to tucking his nose into the crook of TF's neck.





	ain't nothin' better, we beat the odds together

**Author's Note:**

> this is for sunny because she was having a hard day at work and asked me for something romantic and my romance gland is tragically shriveled but i tried my best and i also spent a long time researching whether a horse could plausibly carry two grown men on its back because obviously this is a fic that hinges on realism
> 
> and you KNOW that the title comes from "still the one" by shania twain. i will not apologize.

Tonight, the card game wasn't the point of the hustle. Twisted Fate played carefully, making sure that by the end he'd neither lost nor gained any money. Losing kept his opponents happy - happy enough to keep playing for hours and hours. And with Graves thoughtfully supplying a fresh glass of top-shelf whiskey whenever someone ran dry, it wasn't long past midnight that each of the card players had sunk into a drunken stupor, faces flushed red where they pressed into the table, barely even twitching as they fell into a deep unconsciousness. 

Fate was the exception, of course. He threw his last hand down and stood up, flexing his fingers as he drew a card from his own deck. 

"See you upstairs," he said to Graves. He was self-satisfied and smirking; but that condition was tragically permanent, so Graves didn't like to bring it up. He teleported upstairs, bypassing the heavy lock on the target's chamber door, which he would open for Graves to enter behind him. Despite the targets being just a few shades left of dead, Graves tried to keep his clomping, heavy-booted footsteps as quiet as possible as he ascended the stairs. 

The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar, just as it should have been. He slipped in and found that Fate was already searching the chests and drawers for their prize.

"You're the least stealthy thief to ever trample across Valoran," TF said conversationally, not looking up from the shirts he was throwing on the floor. 

"And yet you keep me around," Graves returned easily, immediately joining in on the hunt. There were two chests Twisted Fate had pulled out from somewhere - probably under the bed - with locks on them. Fate always left Graves with the grunt work. Drawing a knife, Graves set to levering them open. 

The first contained papers. Graves cast a cursory glance over them, but threw them aside disinterestedly. Twisted Fate suddenly appeared beside him, swooping down to pick them up. 

"What are these?" Fate asked, flipping through the pile with interest.

"Don't know," Graves grunted. He was working on the second lock. "Letters, looks like."

There was a moment of silence as Fate opened one of the letters and scanned it quickly. He crowed a laugh, and Graves looked up at him.

"These are _love_ letters," TF said, waving them at Graves delightedly. "Listen to this: 'To my darling; I miss you dearly. Would that I were by your side, to fill your mouth with my kisses! To whisper my love into your ears!'" Twisted Fate had to stop there, half strangling on a laugh. He read ahead, and then he looked at Graves again. "This part is good: 'I am happier since the day I met you. Our first glance, our first kiss...'" 

Fate maintained eye contact with Graves throughout that section, until Graves was forced to turn his gaze back to the lock he was working on. He'd hoped he could hide the fact that he'd turned bright red, but judging by Fate's wide, pleased grin he knew perfectly well that he had flustered Graves. 

Fate turned his eyes back to the letter and read out, "'At night I dream of your prick in my hand' - oh. Oh my." Fate was once again overwhelmed with laughter. Graves laughed along with him, shocked by the sudden turn toward the obscene, but his ears were still burning red. 

The trunk popped open almost unexpectedly under his hands. There was a plain brown sack inside, its contents visible only as a vague shape through the fabric. But the sudden flood of magic into the room immediately told Graves and TF that this was exactly what they had come here for.

Twisted Fate instantly lost interest in the letters, pornography and all, and dropped them back onto the floor. He stepped forward, suddenly cautious, and took a ginger hold of the sack's hem. He exchanged a wary glance with Graves, and then flipped the fabric back in one smooth motion.

Inside there was a single crystal, radiantly blue. The thrum of magic that had spilled into the room when the chest was opened intensified. Graves could feel it like a buzzing in his teeth. It wasn't painful, necessarily, but it was unpleasant. He was relieved when Fate covered the thing up again.

"Guess we got what we came here for," Fate said. He lifted the sack out of the chest, very careful not to actually touch the crystal - not even through the cloth. Rather than walk out the front door, passing directly by the people they were robbing (dead drunk and passed out or not, that was poor form) they unlocked one of the windows and slipped out into the night. One of them was significantly more stealthy than the other.

Graves was ready to turn off down the path and get walking, putting as much distance between themselves and the house as possible before morning, but Fate was standing still. He was looking at the stable beside the house.

"You know how to ride a horse?" TF asked.

Graves bristled. When the two of them had been street rats together, neither of them had ever ridden a horse. If Fate had learned how to ride one, it would have been some time in the last ten years.

"Surprisingly enough, that's not something they teach in prison," Graves said. A shadow passed over TF's face. But he chose to ignore Graves' hostile tone, and entered the stable regardless. 

There were five or six horses of various colours and sizes, although judging by their uniform shape they were all related to each other, or at least the same breed. Twisted Fate picked out a large black mare for himself, stroking her muzzle reassuringly as he led her out of her stall. She was perfectly placid, apparently not the least bit alarmed by the presence of two strangers. 

"You're a quick learner," Fate said to Graves, shooting him a quick grin. 

Graves examined the horses dubiously as Twisted Fate quickly went through the process of saddling a horse. It looked complicated to Graves, but TF managed it with ease, tightening straps and testing their tightness with his fingers. It was times like these that Graves wondered about the ways they were different from each other now. The gulf that had grown between them after ten years of absence felt wide and unnavigable.

The feeling was always fleeting, though. Twisted Fate swung himself up into the saddle with apparent ease, and smirked down at Graves with his perpetual self-satisfaction. 

"Well, if you won't get a horse of your own you'll have to share mine," he said casually, as if it was normal for two grown men to share a horse. Graves looked the mare over critically, wondering if she could even handle their combined weight. TF seemed to read these concerns on his face, and said, "She's a big girl. We won't ride her too hard, and we'll only take her to the next city. Then we'll sell her to some rich fool for three times what she's worth, and he'll be so worried about preserving his expensive new pet to ever ride her. Everyone wins. Mostly us." 

Even if Graves was reassured by that, he still had several objections. Not the least of them was that he wasn't some swooning maiden waiting for TF to carry him away into the sunset. It was a ridiculous notion, two men cuddled up to each other like that.

"We haven't got all night," Twisted Fate pointed out. He looked back at the house, but it was still quiet. Graves shifted from foot to foot indecisively. Twisted Fate rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. "Graves, I've seen you fight a bear with nothing but your fists for a weapon. I can't believe you're afraid of a horse." 

Graves was _not_ afraid of the horse. To prove it, he stepped up into the stirrup and swung himself up behind TF. He almost fell off when his ankle twisted awkwardly, but he managed to extract his foot and steady himself by clutching at TF's shoulders. 

It was worse than he'd imagined up in the saddle. Much too close for comfort; Graves was pushed up against TF from hip to chest, and though he tried to wriggle back to give him more room, his efforts were futile. Graves was forced to relinquish the stirrups to the one of them who knew what he was doing, and he felt very unsteady and very high off the ground. This sensation intensified when the horse jerked into motion. There was nothing for him to do but to put his hands on TF.

"Don't hold onto my shoulders," Fate said, shrugging Graves' hands away. "I need to be able to use my arms." 

Chastised, Graves tried to keep his hands to himself. This lasted about thirty seconds, until the horse reached a slight incline in the ground that shifted her centre of gravity and made Graves' whole body tilt in the saddle. Graves clutched at Twisted Fate's waist desperately to avoid falling off. His only comfort was that TF couldn't see the terror or the humiliation on his face. 

Fate laughed anyway. "Don't be shy. It's going to be a long ride. You might as well put your arms around me." 

Graves groaned and leaned his forehead against TF's back in defeat, giving in and wrapping his arms around TF's waist. The saddle was uncomfortable under his ass, the lurching motion of the horse was unfamiliar and irritating, and TF was radiating smugness. It _was_ going to be a long ride. 

Graves couldn't see how this was any better than walking, anyway. The horse's pace was plodding and slow. If one of them had been injured, this would make sense. If Graves had the excuse of being light-headed and delirious, he wouldn't feel so... what was it? Embarrassed? Guilty? ...about the way he had gone from leaning his forehead into the solid space between TF's shoulder blades to tucking his nose into the crook of TF's neck. 

It wasn't like Twisted Fate was complaining. In fact, he'd slumped back a little so that they were pressed together back to chest, and their hips had drifted closer. It made the saddle feel a little more roomy, and Graves was surprised to find himself almost comfortable, aside from the roiling motion of the animal beneath him. The night air was chilled, but TF was warm against him. 

"God, this is romantic," Graves grumbled into the fabric of Fate's shirt. When Fate laughed, Graves could feel his whole body vibrate with it. 

"I should have brought those letters along for reading material," Fate said. "I guess I could try and compose my own. 'To my precious... beloved... dear one,'" he began, fumbling already with just the opening address.

"Stop that. You haven't got a romantic bone in your body," Graves said. 

"Oh, so you think you can do better?" Fate turned his head a little so that Graves could see the challenge in his eyes. 

Graves had always been weak to a challenge. With a sigh he straightened up, giving the task his full attention. He was relieved that Fate had to turn his head back to watch the road. This way Graves could stare at the back of his head - his hat askew, his braid half-falling out of its tie, the brief glimpses of his neck underneath the cascade of dark hair - while he thought about what to say.

"To..." Graves trailed off immediately, too embarrassed to continue. His voice felt too loud in the darkness around them, and his words were too honest for him to say out loud.

"Don't chicken out on me," Fate prodded. "I already _know_ it's going to be terrible, so there's no need to be shy about it." 

Graves closed his eyes and went for it. "To the - the person I love," he began, quiet and hesitant, "I don't think anyone has ever seen you the way I do, because... They haven't looked at you the way I do. I've been looking at you - and looking _for_ you - for a long time. And it hasn't always been good. Sometimes it's been just awful." Twisted Fate snorted, and Graves saw that he was on the verge of interrupting - probably to ask what kind of love letter this was - so Graves talked a little faster. "But every awful thing I've ever lived through has been worth it for the times when - you know, when we've been together. And it hasn't been awful." 

Graves winced as he fumbled the ending, but he felt he'd gotten his point across well enough. Then he added, "And I liked that part from the letter, you know, 'I am happier since the day I met you.' That part can stay."

There was a very long silence between them, in which Graves stewed in miserable embarrassment. 

"Alright," TF said finally. "You win." 

Despite the anguish Graves had been feeling for an unbearably long time, he tucked a smile against TF's shoulder. 

* * *

They rode on in silence for a few hours. On the brink of daylight, Fate stopped the horse. Graves had actually managed to fall into a doze, but the sudden stillness made him raise his head.

"We won't want to be on the road during the day," TF said. "We'll draw too much attention." He was looking at Graves over his shoulder, smirking at him.

"Time to look for a campground?" Graves asked, still slightly groggy. 

"Yeah. You have to get off the horse first, by the way. I'm too squished, I don't have enough room." 

Graves looked dubiously at the ground. "Alright," he said, and started to slide his leg over the horse's rump. 

He fell. He slipped off the back of the horse and sprawled across the ground. He didn't break anything, but he was going to be sore. And his pride was devastated, of course, by Fate's uproarious laughter. 

He climbed back onto his feet, brushing dirt off of his clothing, just in time to watch Twisted Fate dismount with grace. Insult to injury. He had half a mind to give TF a few bruises of his own. 

Fate was in an irritatingly good mood as they searched for a suitable place to sleep for the night, while Graves was extremely surly. They eventually found a campground already made, though the fire pit was full of fallen leaves and debris; it obviously hadn't been used in months. TF tied the horse to a tree and removed its saddle while Graves built up a fire. He kept it small and used the driest wood he could find to avoid smoke. This wasn't his first rodeo, and he knew a thing or two about hiding in the woods. 

TF had poked through the saddle bags, carefully avoiding the one that had the crystal tucked into it. The leather of the pouch seemed to be insulating the magic well. The horse wasn't showing any signs of irritation, at least. She was eating grass at the same equable pace she seemed to do everything. 

The bags obviously hadn't been packed for a long journey, but they were stocked with emergency supplies in case a quick departure was necessary. Graves was pretty sure they hadn't figured on the quick departure being made by thieves when they packed the supplies. There was one blanket tightly folded, dried fruits and nuts, flint and tinder, and a waterproof cloak. 

TF suggested a coin flip to see who would get the blanket and who would be stuck with the horse's strong-smelling saddle blanket and the cloak. Graves rolled his eyes and told him he should just take it, since he was going to cheat anyway. 

They leaned themselves back against a pair of trees, eating in silence. Graves' mood had mellowed out a little, though his shoulder was aching and he kept having to readjust his position against the tree. 

The sky was still dark, though the first grey fingers of dawn were starting to appear in the east, a subtle light behind the cloud cover. 

"I _am_ happier since the day I met you," Fate said quietly. Graves looked over at him. He was just barely visible in the darkness.

His face was limned with gold from the firelight. It wasn't fair, because it made Graves think about the rest of the letter - _our first glance, our first kiss_. 

Graves had never kissed Twisted Fate. He'd wanted to - but he never had. When he was young, it was his biggest secret: in the corner of some seedy bar, he'd sit with a girl in his lap, letting her kiss his neck; but his eyes would be fixed on TF's face across the room, watching him laugh as he won yet another round of poker. 

_At night I dream..._ Graves turned red again, though this time the shadows hid him. He squirmed guiltily, trying not to follow that line of thought. It would be a lie to say he never had before - but he'd always been ashamed. He'd always kept it for the late nights when he was alone, where no one would ever know.

He was older now. He'd been through a lot of shit. It was always a silly secret to have. He could see that now. Wanting to kiss someone was nothing to hide.

"TF," he said softly. Fate didn't respond. Graves would have thought he was asleep, but he could see the shine of his open eyes in the dim light. 

Graves couldn't figure out what he wanted to say. He sat quiet for a minute or two, and then he got up. It was only a few feet to get TF; it only took a moment to kneel down beside him and put a hand on his face, gently. 

"TF," he said again, his voice low. He heard Fate's sharp intake of breath in response, saw the way his eyelids hooded slightly as his gaze dropped to Graves' lips. 

"I've been waiting," TF said, so quiet it was barely audible. Graves' heart stuttered in his chest, somehow nervous at the same time as he was more relieved, more at peace than he'd ever been in his life.

"How long?" He asked, smoothing his thumb across Fate's jaw, letting it come to rest at the corner of his lips. There was another sharp intake of breath. 

"The whole time," Fate told him with his signature smirk, but somehow now the self-satisfaction had melded into self-deprecation, and the effect was almost melancholy. 

There were many things Graves could say to that: apologies he could make, jokes to dispel the tension, confessions of his own. But they fell away in his mind as he stooped forward and kissed Twisted Fate with all the tenderness he possessed. 

After the Locker, Graves had wondered if he possessed any tenderness at all anymore. But Fate looked small against the trunk of the tree, and Graves' heart felt heavy, so full it almost hurt. Fate's face was partially masked by the uneven flicker of the fire and Graves' own shadow. The parts he could see looked vulnerable. Maybe more vulnerable than he'd ever seen before. 

"Nobody's ever seen you the way I do," he whispered hoarsely. Fate looked surprised. As if he hadn't figured out that Graves had been talking about him all along. A smile hooked at the corner of Graves' mouth. "Nobody looks at you the way I do."

He kissed TF again. 

He could picture the morning already: TF would be gone. He would realize, of course - the letter was addressed "to the person I love." Fate had already admitted too much. ("I've been waiting. The whole time.") He'd made himself too vulnerable. 

He would leave, take the horse with him, make the exchange - giant glowing crystal for an unbelievable amount of gold. He'd leave Graves alone in the clearing with his fire burned out, leave him and his love letter and his poorly-kept secret.

But two weeks, three weeks later, Graves would wake up in the seedy inn he'd been staying at. Soft light would pour in through the window, the sky clear and blue. And he would find TF sitting in a chair by the window, hat on his lap, feet propped up on the windowsill. Sitting there like none of it had ever happened. He wouldn't apologize. He'd slip back into Graves' life like he'd never left. And Graves would let him; Graves would forgive him, somehow.

Because even though sometimes things between them were awful, right now Graves was running his fingers through TF's hair. The tie gave way against the gentle pressure, and the strands flowed through his hands like silk. Graves had been looking for him, and TF had been waiting. 

For all the things the Locker had taken from him, it couldn't touch this.

Graves wondered if he would ever stop thinking about that stupid letter. _Our first glance_. Graves had been nineteen, TF smirking at him over the surface of a card table. Maybe Graves had known, even then. _Our first kiss_. More than twenty years later, here he was, on his knees in a forest, and he knew he'd be writing love letters about it for the rest of his life.


End file.
